The Wings of Death
by Gabriel of Dreams-Yume Chan
Summary: This is basically a narrative poem that i used Duo and Heero as the characters, (a narrative poem is a poem that tells a story) um yeah i think its good, so do my friends heck i submitted it into teen arts and they said it was okay so just read


Disclaimer: I do not own GW! And if you cant guess which characters from GW I used than too bad for you!

"The Wings of Death"

He walked along the God for saken land

blood Covered his face, his long hair, and

his victorious scythe.

He was tired, worn and wounded from his battle

but still he trudged through the desert whether he

was hallucinating or just had the erge to go on

we will never know.

He was still wearing his joker mask; bright smile

on his face appearing to have no care in the world.

Even though he was in the most horrible place

the joker mask stayed on and the smile

never left his face.

He just walked with no purpose, no place

in the world, no reason, he just kept walking

and walking, on and on.

The Angel watched the boy as he walked

unaffected by the boys pride, or his scarlet

eyes.

The Angel just watched the same expression on

his face, wings not fully spread out but on the

verge of doing so, pondering whether or not to

kill him.

The Angel, the only Angel sent to earth to kill

all he saw fit to die, being an Angel he was

the perfect soldier, almost untouchable, stealthy and light

on his feet but strong and muscular. He wore his own

mask.

The Angel's mask was an expressionless one and though

he seemed to have no emotions, no soul, with those

empty cobalt eyes he really did it was just his

mask smothered them every time he put it on and

for a few moments he felt nothing. So there he stood

on the tall statue over the desert following the braided

boy's movements.

The boy then abruptly stopped, stood up strait, and

clutched his scythe pulling it into a fighting position.

He looked up and stared strait into the Angels eyes.

Their eyes should never had met, but they did.

Scarlet and Cobalt eyes locked in battle

neither backing down, each waiting for the other

to back off. Nothing happened, there was no

sound just their eyes locked in the death

glare.

They needed no words for some how they

were able to tell what the other was thinking.

The Angel pulled out his sword and adopted a

fighting stance still keeping his gaze fixated on the

boys eyes.

The Angel swooped down off the monument attacking

the boy, the boy blocked to the best of his ability but

the Angel managed to slash his smirking face.

The boy was amazed at the Angel's lightning fast speed,

while the Angel was mesmerized by the boys eyes. His

eyes stayed happy and smiling even in the heat of battle.

Then Angel too engulfed in his thoughts barely evaded

the attack prepared by the boy.

The Angel now staying still in the air and the

boy standing where the Angel had been.

The boy removed his mask and let the

smile fall flat into the frame of his face

forming a frown. He, one of the best rebel fighters

of the war was allowing a supposed majestic,

fragile creature to beat him in combat. They

clashed again, the boy fighting more fiercely

but when they stopped for breath he realized

that the Angel was still unscathed. How could

this be! He looked at himself, he was

cut and bruised yet the Angel was

unharmed.

The Angel hated his job and fighting this boy

made him wake up to this fact. It made him realize

even the most formidable opponents didn't stand

a chance against him, he now saw himself suitable

for death, so he would now delete himself from

this barren world.

The boy came up from his thoughts to see

The Angel put away his bloody sword and shake

out of his fighting mode. The Angel still kept his

mask in place even as he dropped his guard.

This greatly puzzled the boy and

so he too stood up strait, taking an interest

in what the Angel was doing.

The Angel spoke, but with the stony cold voice

of a murderer, he said monotonly, " I've taken

so many lives that I have forgotten the real value of life.

I don't deserve the privilege of living so as my final act

in this life that was bestowed to me I will take one final life.

My own." This shocked the boy immensely almost to

the point that he collapsed of disbelief.

With out further delay the Angel tore through his

own chest with his bare hand and removed his heart.

His perfect soldier mask began to crack only to reveal

a wry, little, almost undetectable smile. He then said

in a weary voice laden with all the lives he had taken

" Keep it, so that I can be reborn and atone for

all my wrongs against the world, we will

finish our match then." He then took

his last breathe and fell backwards

smiling as his feathers began to wilt.

The boy took the heart from the dying

Angel, crying and leaving spots over his

unmarked body other than the gaping

chest wound and the small stream of blood.

The boy in all his life had never cried

up until now. Even now he cried for a

complete stranger, a stranger who tried

to kill him. But none the less he cried, for

it is the saddest thing to see an Angel die,

even an Angel of war, death and destruction

such as this one. The boy picked up the Angels

cold, lifeless body and continued his march.

He walked along the God for saken land

blood covered his face, his long hair, and the soulless

body in his arms.

He was tired, worn and wounded from his battle

but still he trudged through the desert crying

for the loss of his assailant, allowing the tears

to stream down his face.

He had removed his joker mask; his face now

had a frown caressing it with a look as if he

carried burdens that weighted more than the Angel

in his arms, sodden by a mix of tears and blood.

He just continued on, in hopes of being able

to carry out the Angels request. Hopes of being

locked in another death glare with those

cobalt eyes. The eyes that belonged to the barer

of the wings of death.


End file.
